Murder on Mulberry Bend (33 page)

“Washington Square?” Sarah asked.

“Sì,
sell flowers. Washington. No City Hall. No there, long time.”

“You sell your flowers in Washington Square now, but you used to sell them in City Hall Park?” Sarah asked.

Mrs. Donato nodded, obviously not understanding the significance of this.

“Why would Emilia have thought you’d be at City Hall Park that morning? Did she know you’d changed the place where you sell them?”

Mrs. Donato shrugged.

“Did anyone see you at Washington Square that morning?”

“Much people see,” she said. A flower seller would have spoken to many potential customers, but how could any of them say they’d seen her on a particular day over a week ago?

“Would anyone remember seeing you on that day? Someone you know, maybe?”

“Signora
Tomasetti. We go together. Always together.”

The lump of dread in Sarah’s stomach began to dissolve. “Where can I find Mrs. Tomasetti?”

 

Sarah was exhausted by the time she reached the mission that afternoon. Unwilling to subject Malloy to yet another round of harassment by leaving him a message at Police Headquarters, she had decided to ask one of the girls from the mission to take it over this time. She also felt obligated to update Mrs. Wells on what was happening. She must be getting anxious.

When she reached the front door of the mission, she heard the sounds of an argument coming from inside. She opened the door without knocking and hurried inside to find Maeve and Gina screaming at each other in the parlor. Maeve was wearing Sarah’s old hat, the one Emilia had worn the morning she died.

“It’s mine now!” Maeve was telling her. “You don’t have any right to it!”

“The lady gave it to me!” Gina screamed back.

“Mrs. Wells would’ve given it to me! Ask her!”

“I don’t have to ask her! It’s mine!”

“I’ll tell Mrs. Wells you stole it from me!”

“Give it back!” Gina screamed and lunged.

Maeve ducked out of reach and grabbed the hat. Or at least that’s what Sarah thought she was going to do. Instead she jerked out the hat pin and raised it as if to strike.

“No!”
Sarah shouted, and the girls jumped apart. Maeve dropped the hat pin and clutched the hat, which she was still holding in her other hand, to her thin chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sarah demanded, stooping to snatch the pin up from the floor.

“She took the hat you gave me,” Gina complained.

But Sarah was looking at Maeve, who was glaring back, unrepentant. “I’m the top girl now. It should be mine!”

“I mean what were you doing with this?” She held up the pin.

Maeve looked only a bit chagrined. “I was going to stick her with it. I had to defend myself, didn’t I?”

“What’s going on here?” Mrs. Wells demanded as she appeared in the parlor doorway.

Sarah turned to face her, and Mrs. Wells blanched when she saw the hat pin in Sarah’s hand. She quickly lowered it to her side. “The girls were arguing over this hat. I’d given it to Gina, but Maeve seems to think she deserves it instead.”

With visible effort, Mrs. Wells turned her attention to the girls. “Maeve, I’ve spoken to you before about pride and selfishness. If Mrs. Brandt gave the hat to Gina, then it belongs to her.”

Maeve had paled, too. She obviously hated being corrected by Mrs. Wells, especially in the presence of others. Grudgingly, she handed the hat to Gina, who snatched it eagerly and clutched it to her own chest, probably afraid it would be taken from her again.

“You girls have made a spectacle of yourselves in front of Mrs. Brandt. I think you owe her an apology.”

The girls muttered something unintelligible, then hurried out. Maeve was scarlet with humiliation, while Gina glowed with triumph.

“I’m sorry you witnessed that,” Mrs. Wells said. “We try so hard, but ...”

“Don’t worry about me,” Sarah said, although she was still shaken from seeing Maeve with the hat pin. “I know girls argue. My sister and I fought all the time.”

A slight movement caught Sarah’s eye, and she saw Aggie peering at her around the door frame. “Hello, Aggie,” she said, giving the child a reassuring smile.

Aggie returned the smile and rushed to Sarah, throwing her arms around her skirts. Sarah still held the hat pin in the folds of her skirts so as not to alarm Mrs. Wells, so she led Aggie over to the sofa and sat down. She laid the pin down on the seat and spread her skirt over it. Aggie climbed into her lap as she had before and settled in happily.

“Aggie seems very fond of you,” Mrs. Wells said. Sarah couldn’t tell if Mrs. Wells approved or not. She remembered how concerned Mrs. Wells had been that Sarah’s interest in the mission was only temporary. Probably, she was concerned that Aggie would become too attached to Sarah, only to have her disappear from her life.

“I’m very fond of Aggie, too,” Sarah assured her, earning another smile from Aggie.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Mrs. Wells said, taking a seat in one of the chairs. “We heard about poor Mrs. Donato.”

“Do you know that she tried to ... ?” Sarah glanced at Aggie and changed what she had intended to say. “Did you hear what happened last night? What she did to herself?”

“Yes, the entire neighborhood was buzzing with the news this morning. I understand they sent for a priest from St. John’s for her.”

“Father Ahearn. I saw him at the jail this morning.”

“You visited the jail?” Mrs. Wells asked in surprise.

“I know it sounds strange, but I just had to see Mrs. Donato.”

Mrs. Wells folded her hands in her lap and sighed. “I suppose I should go to see her, too. The Lord commands us to forgive whatever wrongs are done to us, and it’s my duty to speak to her about her immortal soul. She still has the opportunity to save herself from the fires of hell.” She looked up, her eyes bright with the fervor of her faith. “We should always be ready to face our judgment at any time. I trust you have made your own peace with God, Mrs. Brandt.”

“I believe that I have,” Sarah answered, unwilling to get into a discussion on the subject at the moment.

“I’m glad to hear it. Of course, Mrs. Donato’s need is much more urgent. I suppose they’ll execute her for Emilia’s death.”

“They will if she’s guilty,” Sarah said. “I have good reason to believe she isn’t, however.”

Mrs. Wells’s face reflected understandable shock. “I understood that she had confessed.”

“No, she didn’t, and Father Ahearn and I believe she’s innocent.”

Now Mrs. Wells was truly confused. “But you were so certain when you left here ... And then she confessed to the police ...”

“I spoke with Mrs. Donato myself. She couldn’t have killed Emilia. She was selling her flowers at Washington Square that day.”

Mrs. Wells smiled sadly. “Mrs. Brandt, I can’t believe you don’t realize a woman like that would lie to protect herself. Of course she’d claim she was someplace else.”

“I did think of that, but she has a friend who sells dolls, and they go to the park together. I spoke with the woman today, and she verified that they were both at Washington Square every day for the past several months.”

Mrs. Wells considered this for a long moment. “What will this mean?” she asked finally. She looked crushed, as if she could not bear yet another disappointment.

Sarah hated to add to her burdens, but she had no choice. “I’m afraid it means we still haven’t found the person who really killed Emilia.”

Mrs. Wells lowered her head and rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. The strain she was suffering must be awful. When she looked up again, her face was white. “Mrs. Brandt, I’m afraid we will never learn who took Emilia’s life.”

Sarah reached under the spread of her skirt and slid the hat pin out to rest on the sofa where Mrs. Wells could see it. The other woman’s eyes grew wide as she stared at it.

“The last time I was here, I suggested that one of the girls might have done it,” Sarah said gently. “Just a moment ago, I caught Maeve trying to stab Gina.”

Mrs. Wells was shaking her head in silent denial. “Maeve couldn’t have done it,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

“Someone did,” Sarah pointed out.

Mrs. Wells sighed wearily. “This quest has caused so much pain, and nothing can bring Emilia back. Can’t we just ... let her rest in peace?” she tried.

“I’m afraid I’m not as forgiving as you, Mrs. Wells.
I
can’t rest until Emilia’s killer is caught.”

Mrs. Wells sighed in resignation. “May God help you then, Mrs. Brandt.”

I
N THE END, SARAH HAD TO LEAVE THE MESSAGE FOR Malloy herself. She hadn’t felt she could ask either Maeve or Gina to do an errand for her after breaking up their fight. And she certainly couldn’t ask Mrs. Wells for a favor after informing the poor woman that one of her cherished girls was probably a killer. Knowing everyone at Headquarters would hear what her message had been, she’d simply asked Malloy to contact her immediately about something very important concerning Emilia Donato’s death. She could tell the desk sergeant didn’t believe her, but she didn’t care if they thought she was chasing Frank Malloy.

Perhaps they should give in and pretend to be a courting couple. At least Malloy wouldn’t suffer any more teasing as a result, and he might suffer less. She couldn’t help smiling at the thought. Then she went home to wait.

By evening, Sarah had begun to regret accepting Richard’s invitation to dinner. What if Malloy didn’t arrive before Richard came for her? How could she enjoy an evening out when an innocent woman languished in jail for a murder she hadn’t committed? And how could she live with herself if Maeve harmed someone else before Malloy could arrest her — assuming she was even the killer?

She changed her clothes into something appropriate for her scheduled engagement more to occupy herself than because she truly wished to look nice. Even still, the time dragged. Too distracted to read or sew or do anything constructive, Sarah simply sat by the front window, watching for Malloy by the light of the gas streetlamps.

The watch on her lapel said seven-thirty when she saw a familiar figure hurrying down the street, but not the one she’d been expecting. She rushed to the front door and threw it open.

“Gina!” she called, and the girl turned toward her voice.

“Oh, Mrs. Brandt, I’m so glad to see you!” she cried. She ran over and stumbled in her haste to climb Sarah’s front steps. “I didn’t think I’d ever find you.”

“What are you doing here?” Sarah asked as she ushered the girl inside.

Gina needed a moment to catch her breath. “Mrs. Wells sent me. I’ve got a message for you.” She searched in her pocket and produced a crumpled envelope. Her name had been scrawled on it. “Mrs. Wells told me you lived on Bank Street,” she explained as Sarah tore it open. “She said to just go up Seventh Avenue and ask people until I found the street. She said someone there would tell me which house was yours.”

Sarah quickly scanned the note. It was from Father Ahearn. He said he’d found out who the killer was, and he needed her help. She remembered him saying he couldn’t reveal the secrets of the confessional. Had the real killer confessed to him? Maeve was Irish and had most certainly been raised Catholic. She might have felt compelled to confess her guilt, if she was the killer. Father Ahearn certainly wouldn’t be able to tell the police what he’d learned, but perhaps he hoped Sarah could help him convince the girl to surrender herself.

“How did you get this note?” Sarah asked her.

“Somebody brought it to Mrs. Wells. It’s from a priest, she said. He didn’t know how to find you, but he thought she would. What does he want?”

“I have to go meet him.” The note urged her to come as soon as possible, since he was worried the killer might harm herself or someone else. “I’m expecting some visitors, though, so I need to leave them a message before I go.”

Gina sat down to rest from her frantic mission while Sarah found paper and a pencil and began to compose her notes to Malloy and Richard. The one to Malloy was the most difficult. How could she explain in a few words that Mrs. Donato was innocent and someone else — she suspected it was Maeve but wasn’t completely sure — was guilty and that she’d gone to see a priest about finding out for certain? She understood it all, and the story still sounded unbelievable to her. She could just imagine Malloy’s reaction.

The note to Richard was easier. She apologized for her rudeness and explained she had to meet with someone to save an innocent woman’s life. He might consider her foolish, but he’d forgive her.

When she had inserted the notes into envelopes and addressed them to each man, she was ready to leave. “How did you get here?” Sarah asked.

“I walked,” Gina said. No wonder she was tired.

Sarah put on her hat and took her cape from the hook by the door. “Let’s see if we can get a Hansom.” She didn’t think a cab would take them all the way to the mission, but they could probably get a lot closer than the El would take them. She stuck the notes in the door for the men to find and then led Gina down the street toward Seventh Avenue, where they would be most likely to find a cab.

 

Frank knew he should feel at least a little guilty, but he didn‘t, not one bit. Sarah had sent for him, so he had a perfectly legitimate reason to be calling on her. He’d happened to hear Richard Dennis make an engagement with her for eight o’clock this evening, and he knew she’d be home at this hour, waiting for him. He should have gone earlier, of course, so he wouldn’t interfere with their plans. Unfortunately, he hadn’t gotten her message until he returned to Headquarters after investigating a fatal knife fight in one of the neighborhood’s stale beer dives. He could have waited until morning, of course, but she obviously thought her news too important to wait. He’d calculated that he had just enough time to reach her before Dennis carried her away in his carriage. And just enough time to interrupt Dennis’s plans. Perhaps he could even spoil them altogether. He was smiling as he turned the corner onto Bank Street.